


Water

by MeansToOffend (goodmorning)



Series: Pick Me Up [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2017-2018 NHL Season, Chicago Blackhawks, Coming Out, M/M, Pick-Up Lines, i don't normally write fic with kane in it BUT, so e h, this is fundamentally a story about the blackhawks' core
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 14:43:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14046531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorning/pseuds/MeansToOffend
Summary: "After two years, he still dreams about Chicago."





	Water

After two years, he still dreams about Chicago. It’s weird to wake up, home in Pittsburgh for the summer, and realize he’s not a Blackhawk anymore. It’s not that Brandon doesn’t enjoy Columbus, either. It’s a nice enough place, and as cities go, it’s not really that different from Chicago except for three things.

First, Columbus has better traffic. This is pretty self-explanatory: he likes being able to get to places on time, and his pregame naps can be a full half hour longer. More sleep during the season is never not a good thing.

Second, he’s out to the team. Brandon hadn’t felt comfortable with it yet in Chicago, and he hadn’t been sure how the room would take it. In Columbus there’s Fligs, who he maybe accidentally came out to at the airport the second he arrived, who patted him on the back and didn’t seem to care. It was a little harder to tell Bob, Russian as he is, but he’d been fine too, and after that Brandon had told more or less the entire team. It feels good, knowing they accept him.

But third - and honestly probably the reason he keeps having most of the dreams - Jonathan Toews isn’t there, and that comes pretty close to outweighing the other stuff.

\--

He wakes up on the day of the draft with the memory of a deep-dish pizza on his tongue. Three hours later, his phone buzzes, Grosser’s voice too loud in his ear telling him he’s a Blackhawk again.

Brandon’s not really sure how breathing works, after that.

\--

One thing he’d forgotten about Chicago is how easy it is for him to get recognized here. That considered, he probably shouldn’t be anywhere near a gay bar, but he’s re-meeting the team for the first time tomorrow and really just wants to forget that fact for a while. Dancing and maybe a hookup seem like great ways to do just that.

The bar itself is downtown, in a pretty prime location between an all-night Asian street food restaurant and an Argentinian steakhouse, so Brandon considers himself pretty lucky to find a parking spot just half a block away.

Inside it’s crowded and pretty dark, though he can see some questionable art on the walls in the low light. As long as he doesn’t dance on the bar, though, he should be okay as far as photos go. He’s not really the type to dance on the bar anyway, not anymore, but he does dance with the blond guy who buys him a couple of Jello shots. He’s tall and broad, with a smattering of freckles across his nose, but the best thing about him is his eyes, dark and intense.

Brandon blames the eyes for the fact that he’s standing on the back of a toilet right now, blond guy rolling a condom onto him with his mouth before giving him one of the best blowjobs he’s ever had. At one point, he looks up, discovers someone’s written ‘Use protection!!’ on the ceiling in gold sharpie. Then he looks down, sees dark eyes looking up at him through too-light eyelashes, and comes right then.

The guy doesn’t give him any shit about ‘Jonny,’ so Brandon blows him back, ignoring the noises in the next stall.

He leaves the bar feeling light and carefree - for all of three steps, before someone asks, “Saader?”

He freezes. He shouldn’t freeze, but he freezes, hoping desperately that this fan will be cool or at least gullible, but it’s not a fan. It’s Crow.

“Oh, hey,” he makes himself say. “What are you doing here?”

Crow gestures to the Asian restaurant. “Chili crab, a national dish of Singapore and also very delicious. How about you?”

Brandon could lie here, could say he meant to go to the sports bar three doors down, that he didn’t realize it was a gay bar, or any number of things. But he doesn’t really want to go back in the closet, and he literally just blew a guy in the bathroom, so he doesn’t. “You know, just looking for a good time,” he says.

“I’m glad you felt like you could tell me,” Crow says, and hugs him right there on the sidewalk, like he doesn’t care if anyone notices two of the most recognizable male athletes in the city hugging in front of a gay bar.

In some ways, it makes him feel even better than the blowjob.

\--

Brandon has a lot of rules for himself about picking up - not during playoffs, never in Canada, Scruff in the summers, Grindr on the road. He rarely does it in Chicago, not like he had in Columbus, but Arizona’s pretty safe. People do follow hockey there, but mostly they only recognize Jonny and Kaner and sometimes Crow.

This isn’t, strictly speaking, a college town, since they’re in Glendale and not Phoenix, but maybe there are a lot of commuter students, because it’s always crowded when they’re there on a weekend.

Tonight it takes him hardly any time at all to meet someone. The guy says his name is Adam, which probably isn’t true with the way he stumbles over it, but he’s tall, dark, and gangly, and Brandon isn’t the type to fuss over a fake name here or there. He always goes by ‘Brandon Vincent’ anyway, ‘Brandon’ because he’s terrible at remembering to respond to anything else and ‘Vincent’ because of Troch, and he introduces himself to “Adam” before suggesting they leave.

Outside, they both look at each other expectantly.

“Is your place…?” Brandon trails off.

“I, uh, still live at home,” Adam explains.

Brandon sighs. He likes this guy, doesn’t want to try to find someone else. “Okay,” he says, deciding, and takes him to the hotel.

They don’t run into anyone on the way up, and it’s a relief - right up until he rounds the last corner and runs smack into Seabs.

“Hey, Saader, got change for a twenty?” Seabs asks, before noticing Adam.

“Um,” Adam says. “Should I…?”

Duncs opens the door they’re all standing in front of, and Brandon has to hold back a groan. “We call him Saader because he’s a welder,” he says, and pulls Seabs into the room. 

“ _Oh,_ because welders solder-” Seabs says, cut off by the closing door.

“Western Canadian tradesman’s conference,” Brandon explains once he gets his brain back.

“I see,” says Adam, and they really don’t talk much after that.

When Brandon gets back from walking Adam down, Duncs and Seabs are waiting for him.

“Friend of yours?” Duncs asks, way too neutrally.

Even if he wanted to lie, there’s no good one here anyway. “Don’t even know his real name,” Brandon admits.

“Shit, get it!” Seabs socks him in the shoulder.

“Thanks,” says Brandon, and goes to bed happy.

\--

Jonny’s been kind of ignoring him at practice - at least, as much as anyone can ignore someone on the same line. Brandon’s so busy trying to figure out why that he doesn’t notice when Sharpy sneaks off a little early.

This is always a mistake.

His phone is in a different pocket of his bag than he usually leaves it. This would also be a warning sign, if he wasn’t too distracted to notice it, too.

But then Sharpy chases him down the hall and drags him into a maintenance closet, and he can’t really help but notice that.

“What the hell?” he demands when Sharpy doesn’t say anything.

“Well, I was going to prank you…”

“Sharpy, what did you do?” Brandon asks, more resigned and curious than angry. Sharpy will, after all, be Sharpy. Getting mad just makes him worse.

He looks at Brandon for a long time, like he’s considering chickening out, but he finally says, “I was going to put some apps on your phone-”

“But I already had them,” Brandon finishes. “Wait, is that why we’re in a closet?”

“I mean, someone else could have had the same idea…”

“No, they’re mine,” he admits. “I haven’t told everyone yet, though, so don’t shout it from the rooftops or anything.”

“Aw, Saader, it’s so sweet that I’m one of your _chosen few,_ ” Sharpy teases.

“You only know because you were trying to be a dick,” Brandon points out, laughing as Sharpy tries to put him in a headlock.

\--

He really does start actually telling the guys after that, the first four indifferent reactions giving him courage, and he’s happy to discover that all of them are similarly unfazed. It’s so easy that it takes just a couple weeks before he only has two guys left, Jonny and… Kaner.

He’s been saving Jonny because of the stupid boner he has for him. He’s been saving Kaner because he’s Kaner. His not-at-all unique blend of bro and more bro makes him, by far, the most likely candidate to be both homophobic and extremely obnoxious about it.

Brandon’s honestly debating just never coming out to Kaner at all. He’s pretty wrapped up in himself, anyway. Maybe he just won’t notice?

And anyway, the Jonny problem is a lot trickier, more deserving of his attention.

But Kaner comes up to him in the locker room one day, looking around all secretive, and Brandon knows he should walk away right then, but he doesn’t.

“What are you doing, Kaner?”

“Just making sure Tazer’s not around,” Kaner says, spinning on the spot.

“He’s with Q,” says Brandon, who is totally not a stalker, and Kaner perks up.

“Good. Listen, we’re going out tonight, and we are gonna get you laid. I haven’t seen you with a girl since -” 

“No, we’re not,” Brandon interrupts.

“Aw, come on, we won’t be out that late,” Kaner whines.

“Okay, first - I doubt that, but second - I’m super fucking gay, Kaner, so no.” _Whoops._

“Dude, there are straight girls I can wheel at gay bars sometimes, and I’m a great gay wingman, just ask-” Jonny comes in. Kaner cuts himself off, taking a step back. “Just think about it.”

\--

Brandon doesn’t really think about it, mostly because he’s still waiting for Jonny to act normal, already. Going out and picking up a brown-eyed stranger feels like it might be a little too much right now.

It takes just two days for him to crack.

He waits for Jonny - always the last to leave - after practice, speech ready in his mind. Jonny may be liberal for a hockey player, but it’s mostly for plants, so Brandon figures better safe than sorry, right? 

Except Debs leaves, and Brandon finds himself lunging at Jonny, whisper-shouting, “Tazer, have you been avoiding me because I’m gay?” Which was supposed to be slightly later in the speech.

“I haven’t - you’re what?”

“I know you probably never expected to have a gay dude in your locker room, but-”

“It would be weird not to expect myself to be in my own locker room, Saader.”

“Wait, what?” is all Brandon can manage.

“How can you not know? I came out to everyone two years - oh.”

“I can’t believe nobody mentioned it to me,” Brandon says. “Actually, that’s pretty cool, isn’t it?”

“Anyway, I’m sorry for avoiding you,” Jonny says. “I thought you were straight, and the whole ‘being gay and really into you’ thing would make you uncomfortable.”

“Wait, go back, you’re into me? Like, you want to do dick stuff, or?”

“ _Like,_ I want to date you. But yeah, ‘dick stuff’ is included in that,” says Jonny, unfairly sarcastic already.

“Fuck yeah!” Brandon shouts, crashing into Jonny like they’re together on the ice and he just scored, which - well, maybe he just did.

“Are you-” Jonny starts after a minute. Brandon pulls back to look him in the eyes.

“Jonny,” he says, seriously, “your body is 85% water, and I am _so thirsty._ ”

And Jonny snorts, and kisses him, laughing softly into it.

\--

(In the morning, Jonny wakes him up with a blowjob and tells him people are actually about 60% water, and Brandon is already stupid in love with him.)

**Author's Note:**

> \- I know there were salary cap reasons behind the Saad trade but I like to imagine it was just because Jonny was pining.  
> \- Lewis Gross is Saad's agent still as far as I can tell.  
> \- The Asian street food place is not in Chicago but is real and beautiful and their chili crab makes me want to die.  
> \- The gay bar is also based on a local one which does indeed do cheap jello shots and have bad art.  
> \- Most fake names start with "A," true fact.  
> \- The story behind "Brandon Vincent":  
> Pittsburgh, PA, Summer 2014:  
> Trocheck: "Dude, we have to go to [insert gay bar here] for my bday"  
> Saad: "I don't know, what if we get recognized?"  
> T: "We'll just give people fake names"  
> S: "But that seems-"  
> T: "Dibs on Vincent Brandon"  
> S: "Well fuck you, I'm gonna be Brandon Vincent then"  
> T: *dies laughing*

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [take me down with you when you go](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17243294) by [MeansToOffend (goodmorning)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorning/pseuds/MeansToOffend)




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